


Restrictions

by Willow1977



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other, Prejudice Against Muggle-borns, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:27:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29522943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow1977/pseuds/Willow1977
Summary: One Shot, sixth year, AU. Muggleborn restrictions, and the mind of Hermione Granger.
Relationships: None
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Restrictions

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot only, something that was in my head that I had to get out.

Up in one of the hidden sections of the library, on a smooth, well-polished heavy oak table, scattered about in organized chaos that would look to most like she had randomly stacked books on top of each other, scrolls, carelessly tossed to one side, while writing furiously on yet another piece of parchment, sat the Brightest Witch of her Age. 

Her caramel-colored riot of curls were piled on the top of her head, held up with two slightly bent writing feathered quills, their blue feathers unseen through the curls as she made notes and plans. There was so much to learn, to prepare for, honestly, not a lot of time to do it. Between preparing for her NEWTS in a year, researching the basis in the ever-growing list of laws against Muggleborns, she was also struggling to keep up with her best friend in Potions. 

Yes, Harry used that dratted potion’s book with the handwritten notes in the margins, but she knew that writing from somewhere. It set off that low warning signal in the back of her head that something was up. Between how he was acting towards some people, the change in behavior, and just how angry he had been, She was worried about her best friend, hence why she was in the restricted section, again, skipping meals to research the cause and effect of dark curses on the mind, and comparing what she could find with the Muggle terms of PSTD. 

She gathered her things, hearing the warning chime for new Muggle-born curfew, sending the books and such back to the stacks with a determined swish of her wand, before she headed to the door of the library, to get the once over by Madame Prince. She hated the new rules, the new restrictions that had been put in to place. 

She held her head up, her eyes showing that quiet defiance that most at Hogwarts recognized as the warning signs of a ‘Granger Temper’ flare as the elder librarian nodded, as Hermione left the library, knowing that the longer than normal look over was going to be pushing her to get inside the dorms before the second chime went off to notify everyone that the Muggleborns had to be in their dorms.

She hurried, not quite running, as that would have gotten her a detention, and she just didn’t want to deal with such this year, if possible. As she moved, she passed so many of her classmates, all of which could be out later than this, all because of blood status. 

She rounded the corner, and just as she had said the password and the picture swung open to admit her, she heard a mostly snide, gravelly voice tell her to stop. 

Damn it. She’d almost made it. 

She turned and did her best to keep her face looking blank as she saw her houses’ two sixth-year level prefects. Two people more undeserving of the roles she couldn’t imagine, but with the new laws making it illegal for a Muggle-born to ever be put in a position of power over a Pureblood, she had been denied her prefect badge. 

She looked between the two, her mind silently taking them in. One her former friend for a lack of a better word, the other one of her roommates. Ron stood there, looking like he had just rolled out of bed, unkempt, untidy, and looked more like a bloke who had just got done shagging than a prefect doing his job with his hair a mess, robes in a disarray, she could see Lavender’s mauve lipstick print on his left cheek. He had a smirk that would have made third-year Draco proud with the level of Pureblooded insult in it.  
Lavender looked at Hermione, down her little button nose, and tossed her dark blonde curls over one shoulder, and smiled so sweetly that Hermione felt her teeth rotting. 

“You’re late, Granger. Two nights of detention with Professor Snape. “ 

Ron spat out the words as he stared down at the curly-haired bookworm. His blue eyes were lazy, his left hand more interested in staying on Lavender’s ass as per normal. 

“Won-Won, it should be four nights. This is her second time being late this week, and she’s not in proper robes, which violates the Muggle-born wardrobe rule. I don’t see her grey armband, marking her as one of unknown lineage, and those are the rules, right?”

Ron smirked, squeezing Lavender’s ass.

“That’s right sweetie, one week of detentions with Snape, and minus 30 points for thinking you are so much smarter than we are with your dirty blood. “

Hermione wanted to protest, but she was minding her tongue, for now. She nodded and turned, heading inside, hoping to see Harry before she headed up to her room. 

She didn’t see him, but that wasn’t unusual these days.  
She headed up to her room, to her bed, and she climbed in, warding the curtains, and she dug into her reading.

As she read, she thought of something her mother had told her when she was younger, about how to make the thing that people hated you for into your own quiet way of rebelling. 

She knew her brains were the thing people hated most, the thing the Pureblooded hated, that she was smarter than most of them, and she caught on to spell work faster and easier than they did. 

She had to think of each of her achievements differently now. They were more then grades or a spell learned or a charm perfected. 

They were Quiet little fuck yous.

The power of books, of knowledge, the simple fact that it meant they were learning, thinking, striving to become more than what others believed one was capable of becoming. It was exceptional to be able to fully embrace that knowledge became a power. That.. seeking out that knowledge was important, vital, possibly the very thing Harry would need from her.  
Her seeking knowledge was rebelling against the dying of the light, against the powers that be, against the racism, against the chains that locked them into place. It was her own little “fuck you” to the Purebloods. 

Books, stories, knowledge-seeking.

Magic, charms.. The soul within herself.

All little quiet little fuck yous to those who would destroy her, and Harry.


End file.
